


Sleep No More

by Robin4



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Belle tells the heroes off, F/M, Rumbelle adventure, Rumbelle fix-it, not necessarily kind to the heroes, post season 5 fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6935509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin4/pseuds/Robin4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Awakened from the Sleeping Curse, Belle returns to Storybrooke with Rumplestiltskin.  There, the heroes welcome her and expect her to be on their side—as usual.  But when they ask for her help, Belle is not quite charitable as they expect.</p><p>Or, the one in which Belle and Rumplestiltskin make short work of problems and villains because they’re working together (for once).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep No More

Magic ripped through the air, pure and sweet, lighting up the Land of Untold Stories.  Such magic hadn’t been seen there in possibly hundreds of years, and it gave everyone pause.  Everyone but Rumplestiltskin, anyway.  He knew what had happened, and though he had poured his heart and his soul, everything he had—even his power—into that kiss, he hadn’t expected it to work.  _She can’t accept you for who you are_ , his father had said.  _She doesn’t want to be with you,_ Belle’s father had said.  _Just to save you,_ Belle had said, looking so furious and so broken.  All the evidence added up to the fact that he would never be a man worthy of the woman he loved so much, but Rumplestiltskin had still had to try.

Nothing else had worked, after all.  Her father had refused to kiss her.  His own kiss, deep in the Underworld, had failed.  Using what remained of the Olympian Crystal might have worked, but Henry had stolen it and then the heroes had stopped him.  Chasing after the clues Hyde had given him had proven worthless, just as Rumplestiltskin had known in his heart that it would.  There was no way to wake someone from a Sleeping Curse save for True Love’s Kiss…but he had become so convinced that Belle didn’t want him that he was afraid to try.  So he had followed every lead, tried every alternative, and yet his efforts had still come to naught.  Nothing had worked, and Belle slumbered on, caught in that horrifyingly empty black mirrored room.  She and their child were frozen in time, safe but not safe, and Rumplestiltskin was losing hope.

Not that he’d ever had much hope to begin with.  Just sheer determination and love for a woman he knew he would never be worthy of.

Finally, he had stopped searching.  Stopped running.  He had just _stopped,_ finding a small apartment in the Land of Untold Stories where he could remove his beloved from Pandora’s Box once again, lay her on the bed and admit that he’d failed.  He’d wept and he’d apologized, and finally, he decided to kiss her goodbye.  He would take her back to Storybrooke, hand her over to her father, and leave forever.  Perhaps he would return here.  Here he’d found an odd sort of peace, found that darkness and light were not so rigidly divided.  Here they were two sides of the same coin, equals but opposites, both necessary to survive.  The voices were quieter than ever in the Land of Untold Stories, and Rumplestiltskin thought that he could lose himself here.

Moe would make him promise not to return, he knew, and Rumplestiltskin always kept his deals.  He hated the idea of abandoning his child, everything in him rebelled against it, but what else could he do?  He could not leave his wife and child to suffer any longer; he had been selfish to hold onto them both for so long.  If his promising to leave forever was what it took for Moe to wake Belle, the sacrifice was worth it.  He only hoped that Belle would raise their child to think well of him once she was free.

He only hoped that the rest of the town would be kinder to her when she was free of him.  Forever.

“I’m so sorry, Belle.” The words stuck in his throat.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be who you wanted me to be.  I’m sorry that I failed you.  I…I wanted to change everything for you.  I wanted to be worthy of you.  But I’m just a coward at heart.  I suppose that I will always be too afraid to love you enough to save you.”

Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes on tears, trying to force them back.  He who could not save Belle did not deserve to weep over her.

“I tried,” he whispered.  “And it isn’t your fault if I pushed you away again.  You were right, I’m sure.  Your father will wake you.  I just…I just want you to know how much I love you before it’s too late.”  He bit back a sob.  “My power has never meant more to me than you.  I would give it all up if I could have you back…but I know that’s not enough.  I…I finally understand that I’ll never be good enough for you.  The best I can do for you is to let you go, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

Swallowing hard, he leaned over to kiss her, one last time.  It was supposed to be a goodbye, nothing more, but his heart was broken, so what else did he have to lose?  Power was worthless without someone to protect; the darkness was only something he liked because it made him strong enough to safeguard those he loved.  He’d never been strong, otherwise, and now he knew that he never would be.  So, Rumplestiltskin kissed Belle with everything he had: his heart, his soul, and his power, everything that made him _him_.  Because it was all he had, and she deserved him trying one last time.  Even if he knew it wouldn’t work.

Until golden power tore into the air, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his senses crackle.  Being hit by such pure magic was like having his soul lit on fire.  The lightest of all light magic roared through him, making his chest so tight that he could hardly breathe.  Rumplestiltskin had never felt anything like this, had never even dreamt of it, and yet he knew exactly what it was.

True Love’s Kiss.

Belle gasped, sucking in a huge gulp of air as her eyelids fluttered rapidly.  Rumplestiltskin watched her in awe, wanting to leap for joy and sob in relief, wanting to hold her forever and never let go.  But then he braced himself, his old self-doubt resurfacing.  Any moment now, she’d call for her father, because she’d expected _Maurice_ to wake her, and she would not be happy to see him here.

“Rumple?”

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, I just”—Her words finally sank in, and he cut off abruptly, gaping at her.   “You knew it was me?”

“I could hear every word you said.” 

“You—you could?”  Rumplestiltskin found that his mouth was hanging open, and he slammed it shut so hard that his teeth hurt.  His breath was still short and his chest was unbelievably tight.  It had never occurred to him that Belle could really hear him when he spoke to her; he’d just done it because it let him pretend, if only for a moment, that she was still there. 

 _I missed you so much_ , he didn’t dare say.  He wasn’t sure such sentiments would be welcome.

“Of course I could, silly.”  She sat up, giving him a tentative smile.  “I could hear every time you talked to me.”

“Oh.  I, uh…do you want something to drink?”  Rumplestiltskin rose, desperate to put some distance between them so that he didn’t try to kiss her again.  He wanted to, burned to, but he knew that she was still angry with him.  She’d cursed herself because she didn’t trust him to save their child soon enough to stop Hades.  He also desperately needed some way to ignore the howling emptiness inside him.

Her hand snaked out to stop him, grabbing his wrist and stopping him cold.  But Belle’s voice was tiny when she said:  “Don’t go.” 

Wide eyed, Rumplestiltskin turned to stare at her.  “I didn’t think you’d want me here.”  The words hurt to say, but Belle deserved the truth.  Once upon a time, that had been all she’d wanted of him.  “You wanted your father to wake you.”

“I thought you wouldn’t want to.  You wanted to keep your power, and I wanted to respect that.”  Belle looked crestfallen for a moment, and then she put her brave face on.  “And where is ‘here’, anyway?”

“The Land of Untold Stories.”  He was grateful to at least have some sort of answer for her, waving a vague hand at the tastefully furnished (despite the strange mixture of technologies) room they were in.  “This is my—or _yours,_ now—apartment.”

“Not ours?”

“I’m not going to presume that you want me around.”  Rumplestiltskin _would not_ let himself weep.  He’d been selfish for long enough—and now, fool that he was, he’d trapped Belle here.  _I should have made a portal before I impulsively tried to kiss her.  Now she’s stuck.  With me._   Thinking of a worse fate was difficult at the moment, though at least the city was large enough that he could disappear so that he never bothered her again.

“Rumple, why are you saying that?”  Belle looked hurt.

He glanced at the floor, not quite sure how to answer that.  He’d prepared himself for losing her, to give Belle up because it was what her father demanded.  Rumplestiltskin just didn’t know how to put that in words now that he was faced with the woman he loved.  _My True Love.  Despite everything,_ my _kiss woke her up._   That thought made his heart flutter, as did the expression on Belle’s face when he finally dared to look up at her.

“Didn’t…didn’t you wake me?” Belle asked when he continued to struggle for words.

“Yes.”  Rumplestiltskin whispered the word, and then shrugged.  “But I’m afraid that I also trapped you here.”

“What?  How?”

He gestured helplessly.  “No magic, no portal.  I’m afraid I’ve trapped us both here.  Even with the Sorcerer’s Wand, I can’t send you back to Storybrooke.”

“No…magic?” Belle blinked, looking flabbergasted.  “Wait—you _kissed_ me?”

“I’m sorry.”  The words tumbled out again; he wanted to weep.  “I know you wanted your father to wake you, but he refused, and I tried everything I could, but nothing worked, and I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Don’t you see?” Her smile was sudden, as was the way she reached a hand out for him.  Desperately, Rumplestiltskin took the hand Belle offered, clinging to her like she was his only lifeline.  “That means it’s True Love.”

 _Your True Love is your power,_ she had said to him once.  _My power means more to me than you,_ he had told her.  But now Belle’s blue eyes were shining, and Rumplestiltskin found himself helplessly lost inside them.  He _loved_ her, and he’d wanted her to know that, even if it killed him inside.

“Kiss me again,” Belle whispered.  “It’s working.”

Once, he had pushed her away when she said those words.  Now, Rumplestiltskin stepped close, feeling Belle’s arms wrapping around him as tightly as he held her.  He kissed her like his life depended upon it, and maybe it did.

* * *

 

A kiss was not a cure, of course.  They had been through too much, and hurt one another too badly, for it to be so simple.  So, Belle and Rumplestiltskin wound up staying in the Land of Untold Stories, sharing the small apartment and finally _talking_.  They fought, of course: over his decision to become the Dark One once more, over her refusal to look at the world as anything other than black and white.  They fought about Belle having cursed herself in the first place, about how Rumplestiltskin might have mentioned that he’d signed a contract to give his second born child away.  They wept, too, for the thought that they might have lost one another, for the way Belle’s father still refused to respect her wishes, and for the fact that they’d lost _months_ of their lives to stupid lies and heartbreak.

Honesty had been all Belle had wanted, once.  She got it, now, as she had since he’d had his heart wiped clean by the Apprentice.  Support had been all Rumplestiltskin had really wanted, even though he’d never been brave enough to say so.  He wanted to be loved but never really thought himself worthy, but Belle slowly showed him that she wasn’t going anywhere.  Without constant crises, the darkest of curses, or the villain of any given week to get between them, they were finally able to bare their issues and _talk._   Slowly, Rumplestiltskin grew used to the silence within his mind, and when Belle asked, he finally managed to explain—haltingly—that he had wanted the darkness back not just for the power, but also for the fact that the voices in his head had been his only companions for so many long centuries.  When he’d been faced with living without her, he hadn’t known how to fill the emptiness without calling them back.  Belle held him when he cried, shushed him when he apologized, and they grew ever closer.

Together, they watched Belle’s stomach grow.  Rumplestiltskin did his best to find whatever she was craving each week, and they laughed together when this strange world they were in wasn’t able to produce the odd combinations she wanted.  They explored together, and Rumplestiltskin treasured every moment that Belle’s face lit up, excited for another adventure.  This wasn’t the world he had promised to show her, but that didn’t matter.  It was the world they had found.

Somewhere along the way, they discovered that Rumplestiltskin still had magic.

“I told you so!” Belle flung her arms around him after he’d defended them from one of the guards at the asylum. 

The management had changed, but the new warden—some called him a sorcerer—had heard of the fact that Belle was carrying the child of the Dark One.  They’d run from the bounty put on her head, but they hadn’t been able to get far enough.  The guards had found them, and the magic from their weapons arched towards Belle, sizzling through the air, threatening his wife and his unborn child.

Rumplestiltskin’s hands had come up, guided by instinct, and the purple lightning was shrugged aside.  A second flick of his fingers sent the guard crashing into a wall of the alleyway, unconscious but otherwise unharmed.  That left Rumplestiltskin staring at his hands, mouth agape and eyes wide.  Until Belle tackled him.

“Told me what?” he stuttered.

“Merlin’s prophecy about how someday a Dark One would use the darkness for good.”  Belle kissed him soundly, and then cradled his shocked face in her hands.  “It was True Love’s kiss, Rumple.   You didn’t just save me.  You saved yourself as well.”

“I think you saved me.” Rumplestiltskin’s heart was still beating madly; he’d almost lost her, almost lost her to another magic-wielding madman who threatened Belle because _he_ loved her.

“I love you, but you saved yourself this time.  And you’ve done it.  You have light magic, now.”

He looked down at his hands again, willing magic to his fingers, even as he expected it not to answer.  He hadn’t tried, not since kissing Belle, and hadn’t ever intended to—but white light filled his palms, power singing softly within his mind.  Rumplestiltskin had never felt anything like this before.  Oh, he’d done tiny pieces of light magic over the years, but it had always been so very _hard_.  This, however, was simple.  _Real._   Was it his?

“I do.”  The words escaped in awe.  “I have light magic.”

Belle just kissed him again.

* * *

 

Of course, his wife had a hero streak a mile wide, which meant they wound up ousting the new warden and helping the citizens of the Land of Untold Stories destroy the asylum once and for all.  A month later, Belle ran into street urchin who had fallen in love with a princess, and they ended up saving Aladdin from the genie he had inadvertently wished into freedom.  Jafar escaped, but Aladdin and Jasmine were happy, and Rumplestiltskin learned a little more about his magic every time he used it.  He found himself less opposed to helping others, less cognizant of the terrible price to be paid, because this magic didn’t have the same price.  The heavy darkness he had lived with for so long was gone, and Rumplestiltskin found that he could truly be the man he had once dreamt of being.

 _“Can you imagine me with that power, Bae?  Can you imagine?  I would save_ all _the children!”_

Perhaps even Baelfire might be proud of the man he had become.  Rumplestiltskin had tried so hard to be the father his son wanted, but he’d always managed to screw it up back when he’d been the Dark One.  But now he wasn’t, and perhaps he could learn a thing or two about true heroism from his wife. 

On Belle’s birthday, he surprised her with a copy of _Her Handsome Hero_.  Rumplestiltskin had gone to countless merchants and spent months looking for the book, but his work finally paid off.  Belle burst into tears when he gave it to her, and he thought that was a bad thing until she dragged him to the bed with a familiar gleam in her eye.  Slowly, she learned to forgive herself for having doomed Gaston to the River of Lost Souls, and together they started researching if it was possible to save those who were stuck there.

Belle was eight months pregnant when they finally returned to the Underworld, a place Rumplestiltskin would have been more than happy to _never_ visit again.  But King Arthur seemed to have finally found his calling, and under his leadership, the Underworld had returned to the way station it was meant to be.  Arthur was surprisingly helpful when they came to free those trapped souls, and he was only sorry that he could not offer them a portal back to Storybrooke.  Rumplestiltskin only shook his head with a smile; they had found a new home, and by this point, neither was certain they ever wanted to return.

First, however, they needed to free those who were trapped.  Belle had done quite a bit of research on that front, and between her knowledge and Rumplestiltskin’s magic, they found pulling souls from the River much easier than they had expected. _So much for Hades having told the truth about anything at all,_ Rumplestiltskin thought, going to work.  Auntie Em came first, because neither of them knew her, she was rather easy to send on her way.  Surprisingly enough, Arthur was able to tell her that Dorothy had done right by the people of Oz and—much to Belle’s surprise—had found love with Ruby, which made the old woman deliriously happy.  Gaston, however, was not so simple.  And of course he tried to kill Rumplestiltskin right away.

“Stop!” Either Belle’s command or her surprisingly large stomach halted her former fiancé, who stared at her with wide eyes.

“What—what did you let him _do_ to you?” Still gaping, Gaston reached for the quiver of arrows he no longer wore; Rumplestiltskin had made sure to resurrect him, and not the little toys Hades had given him.

Belle sighed, and the exasperated expression on her face made Rumplestiltskin bite back a snicker.  “Have you never seen a pregnant woman before?”

“You—you—he’s a monster!”

“Don’t tempt me to throw you back in that little river, dearie.” Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes, but he knew that his voice had lost some of its old bite.  He didn’t really want to throw Gaston back in; predominately because doing so would make Belle feel even guiltier.  He also still regretted dooming Milah to the same fate, particularly after they’d almost made amends.

_She wants to apologize to Bae.  That’s enough for me._

“I’ll kill you,” Gaston swore, clearly getting on Belle’s last nerves.

“Don’t be ridiculous.  Rumplestiltskin is the one who got you _out_ of the River.”  Striding forward, Belle poked Gaston in the chest with one rigid finger.  “So, you can either figure out what your unfinished business is and move on, or you can stay in this miserable place.  That’s up to you.  We pulled you from the River because no one deserves to spend eternity in there, but I’m done with you.  Get lost.”

Listening to Belle harangue Gaston so thoroughly made Rumplestiltskin smile, and this time he didn’t even try to hide his glee.  Perhaps there was still enough of the imp in him for that, even if he truly was learning to be a better man these days.  Or maybe he was just reflecting upon how different things were this time around.  Last time they had faced Gaston, he and Belle had been divided and afraid, uncertain of what they were to one another and terrified for their child.  Now, however, they were united and in love, and the hand Belle had poked Gaston with so fiercely was the same one upon which she again wore her wedding ring.

“Killing _him_ is my unfinished business!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, the management has changed down here.”  Belle gestured at Arthur, who was watching the exchange with amusement of his own.  “Hades isn’t going to help you with some special arrows, so I suggest you get lost.”

“I can still find a way.”  Gaston’s words were a growl, but before he could lunge for Belle, magic swept him off his feet and into the air. 

Rumplestiltskin had been waiting for it, had seen the deranged fury in Gaston’s eyes, and had known who his target would be.  Belle stood close enough that Gaston could easily threaten her—or their child—and the so-called knight did have a knife at his belt.  He’d even managed to draw said knife before Rumplestiltskin’s magic caught him, but Belle backed away too quickly for him to hurt her.  Rumplestiltskin stepped up to his wife’s side, pausing to make sure she was all right as Gaston kicked and struggled.

“Now, if I were still the Dark One, _dearie_ , you’d had quite a lot to worry about.  I’d probably make some little speech about how ‘this is the fun part’, and take glee in making you miserable.”  He smiled tightly.  “But I’m not.”

Gaston’s face twisted into an ugly snarl.  “You’ll always be a beast.”

“Probably.”  Rumplestiltskin flicked his hand at the ground, palm down, and Gaston crashed to the dock.  “Still, I’ve learned a little about forgiveness and compassion from the amazing woman I married.  But”—now it was his turn to snarl—“if you _ever_ threaten my wife again, I will end you.  Do not doubt that.”

Belle’s hand found his, and they watched together as Arthur grabbed Gaston by the collar and dragged the fool away.  When she looked up at him, Rumplestiltskin could see no blame in her eyes, merely sadness.

“I’d hoped he would be more forgiving.  Or at least understand that I chose you because you respect me for who I am,” she whispered.

“Some people never stop seeing the world through the prism of their own prejudices.”  He sighed.  “I suspect this next encounter will be even less enjoyable.”

“I’m here for you.  Just like you were for me.”  A soft hand touched his face.  “And if that woman tries to hurt _my_ husband, I’ll protect you, too.”

Hearing Belle’s fierceness made him smile.  Taking her hand away from his cheek, Rumplestiltskin turned it so he could kiss her palm.  “I love you.” 

“And I love you.  Now, let’s meet your ex-wife.”

Rumplestiltskin took a deep breath, and then nodded.  While he agreed—in concept!—that Milah deserved better than her fate, the idea of facing her again was more than a little terrifying.  He’d been desperate when he’d shoved her into the water, desperate to get back to Belle and their unborn child, and Rumplestiltskin knew that what he had done would always eat at his soul.  Unlike Belle, he wasn’t accustomed to finding solutions to such problems; Rumplestiltskin was just used to living with the guilt. The idea of facing up to what he had done was, well, terrifying.

Yet he still performed the spell, holding tightly to Belle’s hand.  Moments later, Milah’s soul bubbled out of the river, swirling in several circles before it reconstituted itself on the docks, right where Gaston had been standing.  Immediately, she turned her angry eyes on him.

“What was that you were saying?  That you finally became the man _I_ wanted you to be?  That didn’t include murder!”

Belle looked at him in confusion, but Rumplestiltskin laughed before he could stop himself.  “Oh.  Except for when it comes to healers who are inconveniently expensive, I’m assuming?  He could die.  You only object when it comes to you.”

 “I only wanted you to do what was necessary to protect our child!” Milah stepped forward, her face red with anger, and for a moment, he was back in his old life, the crippled spinner who could never make his wife happy.  He’d been such a failure, and he’d always known that Milah wished he’d died on the battlefield.  _Then I would have been an honored widow,_ she had said so many times.  Despite himself, Rumplestiltskin shivered.

“By murder?” Belle cut in.  “And then you wanted so badly to protect your child that you abandoned him?”

Milah blanched.  “Who the hell are you?”

“His _wife_.”

“Well, you’d better watch out for that heart of yours, then, because he’s prone to ridding himself of wives in a violent fashion.”  Milah’s glare returned to Rumplestiltskin, who finally found his voice even as Belle shot back:

“Rumplestiltskin’s changed.  He’s not the Dark One any longer.”

“That was never his problem, little girl.  He’ll always be a coward.”

“Maybe,” Rumplestiltskin cut in, surprising himself with how easy it was to shrug casually.  “That doesn’t matter.  I wronged you, and I’m here to make that right.  You’re free.  Move on, if you can.  Say that apology to Baelfire.  And if you can bring yourself to”—Rumplestiltskin sucked in a shuddering breath, thinking of his beloved son, who he had betrayed and lost—“give him my love.”

Milah glared at him suspiciously.  “That’s it?  What happened to whatever happened with Hades?”

“That’s over.  Hades is gone.  And I’ve done what I needed to do.” 

Pulling away from Belle, Rumplestiltskin turned away.  He couldn’t look at her sneer any longer, couldn’t bear feeling so _small_.  Belle made him feel so much stronger, and during these past months, he had actually felt like he could be a success as a father and as a husband.  But being around Milah made him feel inadequate again, like the failed spinner and the town coward.  Every time he thought he could be something more, he botched it.  Every time he—

“Then why am I still here?  If I know what my unfinished business is, shouldn’t I be able to move on?”  Milah’s question made him turn, but it was Belle who answered gently:

“Maybe Baelfire isn’t your only unfinished business.”

Milah rolled her eyes.  “I _told_ Rumple that it wasn’t love for Killian.”

“I’m not talking about Killian.”

Immediately, Rumplestiltskin knew where Belle was going with this, and he wished she wouldn’t.  He had no desire to associate with Milah; the one civil conversation they’d had in the boat was probably all they could ever have.   “Belle…”

“It’s her choice, Rumple.”  His current wife gave him a reassuring smile.  “But she should understand.”

“Understand what?” Milah demanded, and Rumplestiltskin finally turned to face her.

“Milah…I am sorry that I never was what you wanted me to be.  I—I never hated you until you abandoned Bae.   But I am sorry that I killed you.  And I forgive you.”

“You forgive _me_?” Milah gaped.  “You made me miserable!  Living with you was like living with a yoke around my neck, and—oh.”  Her face fell, realization replacing the anger.

Once, Rumplestiltskin thought he would have loved to see that.  Now, he just felt sad.  ‘Too late’ had passed for them so long ago; he truly did wish Milah the best, and he hoped she had the chance to apologize to Bae.  Baelfire was a better man than Rumplestiltskin _ever_ had been, after all.  He would forgive his mother, whereas Rumplestiltskin only could because he knew that someone else loved him in a way that Milah never had.

Milah had made him weak.  Belle made him _strong._

* * *

 

Milah moved on, eventually; as did most of the souls they pulled from the River of Lost Souls.  Prince James tried to flirt with Belle and ended up almost pushed back into the river for his troubles.  Arthur intervened there, again, and Rumplestiltskin was rather glad for his presence.  All in all, it took them three days to sort out all the souls who had been shoved into those waters during Hades’ reign, which was three days longer than Rumplestiltskin had meant to devote to said business.  But it made Belle happy, which was worth its weight in gold. Even if it did mean seeing his father _again_ , but by now he knew that Pan wasn’t going to even attempt to redress his own wrongs, or want to move on.  And Arthur knew to take precautions to keep Pan from gaining a living heart.

It wasn’t like they had to hurry, anyway.  Although Rumplestiltskin’s blood might have been required to enter the Underworld, the Sorcerer’s Wand was perfectly capable of bringing them out to the location that they chose.  Rumplestiltskin rarely used the wand these days, and he was beginning to wonder if he could actually create a portal without it, but some mysteries were perhaps better left unsolved.

“I can’t blame you for steering clear of Storybrooke.” Arthur shrugged as they prepared to leave.  “There’s a new villain in town, and he’s freed that Mister Hyde from the asylum and they’re wreaking havoc.”

“Who is it?” Belle asked.

 _Damn._ Of course Belle asked.  And now Rumplestiltskin felt a little guilty; he’d turned Hyde loose on Storybrooke, and although it was a deal he would certainly make again if that was what it would take to keep Belle safe, he did regret doing so.  He’d hoped that the town’s so-called heroes would have dealt with Hyde in a more permanent fashion by now.

“Jafar.”  Arthur gestured at a TV sitting nearby.  “He was sorcerer who got stuck as a genie, and somehow got himself wished free of that predicament.  I have to say that I’m looking forward to his trip down here—he has many people waiting for him as their unfinished business.”

“Rumple…” Belle turned big blue eyes on him, and damn it all if he was worse at resisting that look than ever before.  “We should help.”

“Those people never cared about either of us, sweetheart.  Why should we care about them?”

“Because that’s what heroes _do_.”

“I’m no hero.”  The words were a reflex by now; he said them at least once a week.  And he always lost this argument, too.

“You’re my hero.”  Belle moved in close to take his hand, and Rumplestiltskin knew he was doomed.  “You know I’m right.”

He groaned, desperately trying to ignore the amused look Arthur was giving them—or the way Cruella was all but drooling off to the side.  “Fine.  But we do it my way.  That means no jumping in rashly, and _you_ stay safe.”  Rumplestiltskin’s voice softened as he turned to look at her, his gaze taking in Belle’s ever-growing belly.  “Both of you.  I don’t know what I’d do if you were hurt.”

“Safe within reason.”  Belle had never had a lot of back down in her, after all.

“Within reason.” Rumplestiltskin gave in and raised the wand, first to draw them a portal back to the Land of Untold Stories, and then one to Storybrooke after they’d gathered their belongings. 

He made sure the rent was paid up, though, just in case they needed a place to escape to when the hypocrisy in Storybrooke grew to be too much.  He wasn’t sure if they’d come back, but he knew that the time for avoiding Storybrooke was over.  And they both knew that Belle had some unfinished business of her own, even if none of it was in the Underworld.

* * *

 

Belle went to her father’s first, after they’d arrived in the middle of the night and found the pink mansion still empty.  There were so many memories in that house that Belle almost suggested that they go elsewhere, but she didn’t want to stay at Granny’s…and some of those memories were good ones.  They’d found their fresh start in another realm, and she thought that they could brave the old house well enough.

In the morning, however, she immediately headed for Game of Thorns, pushing the door open before she could change her mind.  Part of Belle, the part of herself that she hated and always tried to pretend didn’t exist, wanted to leave and not come back.  Or she wanted to tell herself that Rumplestiltskin was wrong, that she _could_ believe the best in her father no matter what had happened.  Yet Belle had never been one to hide from the truth.  She had never shied away from reality.  There were so many things about her life that might have been ‘better’ if she’d been willing to turn a blind eye, but she could not do that and remain who she was.

So, she went to her father first.

“Belle!”  Maurice had been behind the counter, and his face lit up upon seeing her.  She could _almost_ lose herself in that joy, could almost forget everything.

Except for the fact that Belle had never been one for forgetting.

“Hello, Father.”  She wouldn’t call him Papa.  Not yet, and perhaps not ever again.  Wrapping her arms around herself with her belly so large was hard, but Belle managed.

“Oh, darling, I was so worried about you.”  Her father came around the counter, arms open for a hug, but Belle stepped back, shaking her head.

“No.”

“No?  Belle, I—”

“Rumple told me what happened.  About how you refused to wake me up.”

“I didn’t refuse.  All he had to do was leave.  That’s all I wanted.  I just wanted you to be safe.”  He looked genuinely confused, and…proud of himself?  Belle wanted to vomit, even though she was past the point of morning sickness.

“Did it ever occur to you to wonder what _I_ wanted?”  The lump in her throat was hard to talk around.  “Did you even _think_ to _try_ to wake me up?  I trusted you!”

“And I would have woken you if that bastard had only done as I asked.”  Maurice snorted.  “Instead, he stole you away and did God knows what to you.”  Her father gestured at her stomach.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, Belle.  I tried, but what can I do against the Dark One?”

“He _stole_ me?  Is that what you think? What you _really_ think?”  Belle felt cold, and she had to swallow hard before she could continue.  “I asked him to bring me to you because I trusted you to wake me up and because I didn’t want to make him choose between his power and me.”

“Clearly he chose power.  Otherwise you wouldn’t be—”

“Pregnant?” Her voice was hard as she cut him off.  “I _chose_ Rumplestiltskin, Papa.   I still do.  And like my _husband_ , I will do whatever is necessary to protect our child.”

“But that’s what I was trying to do!  I was trying to protect you from him.  We both know that he’ll never change, and whatever spell he has over you isn’t as strong as you are, Belle.  You can get away from him.  All you have to do is stay with me.  We’ll deal with the, uh, child when it comes.”

“She.  My daughter is not an ‘it’, and never will be!”

“The child of the Dark One—”

“No.”  Belle shook her head, her hands lying protectively on her stomach.  She’d known that some people would think she was carrying a monster, but the fact that her own father implied it shook her to her core.  She’d trusted him.  She’d wanted to believe that Rumple had misunderstood, that her father had been willing to help her…

But he hadn’t.

She backed up another few steps, glaring fiercely when her father tried to move with her.

“No,” she repeated.  “I’m done here.  I’m done with _you_ until you can respect my choices.  I trusted you.”

The last words came out in a very small voice; Belle felt broken.  She had been so certain that her father would wake her; instead, he had demanded that Rumplestiltskin abandon her and their child.  She almost said something else, but instead shook her head and walked quickly towards the door, struggling to hold back tears.  Maurice followed her, his heavy footsteps catching up fast.

“Belle, I do respect you!  I just want what’s best for you!”

“No you don’t.”  Spinning around as she reached the door, Belle glared at her father.  “And don’t follow me.  If you do, I’ll _ask_ my husband to curse you into oblivion.  I’m sure he’d be delighted.”

Maurice went pale, but Belle didn’t care.  She knew it was an empty threat as she stalked out; she’d never ask, and in her current state, Rumplestiltskin probably wouldn’t do it, either.  But her father didn’t know that, and she felt a petty satisfaction filling her.  _I trusted you_.  The fact that he wouldn’t help her had never occurred to her.  Should it have?

* * *

 

Belle’s next stop had been Granny’s, where she’d been greeted by people who were actually happy to see her.  Granny—and Leroy, who’d been repairing one of the ovens—even congratulated her and asked her when she was due.  Most of the other patrons were people she only knew vaguely, but they were kind enough.  She wasn’t sure if she’d hoped to see any of her old allies there, or what she would say to them when she did see them.  Belle knew what had happened while she slept, of course; she had asked Rumplestiltskin several times, and he’d answered almost all of her questions.  Still, there were some things he said would be received better coming from the ‘heroes’, which had given her quite a bit of pause.

Her father had refused to wake her.  The bitterly angry look in Rumplestiltskin’s eyes every time she asked for details told her that others had refused to help as well. 

So, Belle returned to the library, curious to see what they would do.  It didn’t take long before a few of her friends showed up—she was only surprised to find that Snow and Killian were together.  They found her re-shelving the many books that inconsiderate people had left strewn all over the library’s foyer.

“Belle!  You’re back!”  Snow gave her a genuinely joyful smile that melted Belle’s heart more than a little; perhaps she was being too hard on them.  After all, their time in the Underworld had been hard on everyone.

“Yes, we are.”  Belle returned Snow’s hug with a smile of her own.

“We were starting to think that we’d never see you again.”  Snow squeezed her arms. “It’s been over a year, and you look almost ready to pop.”

“We spent some time in the Land of Untold Stories after I was awakened.”  Belle shrugged.  “It was a lovely adventure.”

“We?” Killian echoed the word Belle had purposefully used.  “I take it that means that the Crocodile has returned with you.”

Belle turned to give her friend a hard look.  “I’ve asked you repeatedly not to call him that in my presence.”

“Love, one never knows where you stand with Rumplestiltskin.  But I meant no offense.”  His roguish grin seemed off, though, and Belle wondered if it was just her.

They really had been gone for a long time, hadn’t they?  She’d grown used to helping other people, people who were grateful and not looking at her so expectantly.  The day Jasmine had hugged her and said thank you had been strangely important; Belle had realized that none of her friends had ever looked at her like that when she solved a problem for them.  Just like they weren’t looking at her that way, now.  Suddenly, Belle realized that this wasn’t a social call, nor even a welcome home—which, it suddenly occurred to her, neither Snow nor Killian had bothered to say. 

“Can I help you with something?” she asked. “I was just reorganizing. The library turned into a bit of a disaster in my absence.”

The door hadn’t been locked, either, but Belle didn’t find that surprising.  Not with the way books were scattered across tables, shelves, and even the floor.  Clearly, someone had been doing research, but no one had been cleaning up.

“Aye, we need a bit of help.” Killian gestured outside.  “The bastard who your husband turned loose on the town has gotten out, and he’s befriended a former genie.  We’re looking for a way to put Jafar back in his bottle and a way to remove Hyde’s super strength once and for all.  Doctor Jekyll’s solutions have all failed.”

“So you’ve come to me.”

“Well, we came to look in books for answers, but you usually know where to find them, so…” Snow trailed off meaningfully, and Belle turned to face her.

“There isn’t a way to put a genie back in their bottle once they’re released.  Particularly since Jafar wasn’t a genie to start with.”  How he’d gotten that way was a convoluted tale that they’d learned in the Land of Untold Stories when Belle and Rumplestiltskin had helped Aladdin and Jasmine, but she wasn’t going to go into that now. 

“How do you know that about Jafar?  No one here seems to know anything about him.”  Snow perked up.  “And he stole all the storybooks that Henry brought back from New York.”

“He was in the Land of Untold Stories for a time.  We learned about him there.”  Belle opened her mouth to tell them about Aladdin and what he had told them about Jafar, but Killian got in first.

“Oh, so he’s another villain that your bloody husband chased in our direction.  Perfect.”  His eyes narrowed.  “You’ll be helping us be rid of him, then.”

Belle jerked back in surprise.  “Excuse me?”

“Rumplestiltskin made a deal with Hyde to ‘give’ him Storybrooke.  Or didn’t he tell you about that?” Killian scowled.

“No, he told me.  He agreed not to stop Hyde from coming here—using the Sorcerer’s wand, which Hyde _already_ had—in exchange for my life.  And for information.”  Belle felt her chest growing tight.  “But what I don’t know is how Hyde managed to kidnap me in the first place.  Or how he even _knew_ about me.”

Snow looked away, suddenly seeming nervous.  “Didn’t Rumplestiltskin tell you about that?”

“Rumple told me to ask you.”

That made Snow exchange a guilty look with Killian, which in turn made Belle cock her head.  Rumplestiltskin had clearly been biting back his bitterness when he’d told her that tale, but she’d assumed it was because of something _he’d_ done.  She’d never met someone who hated himself quite as vehemently as her husband did, and although Rumplestiltskin was more at peace with himself these days, there were plenty of things he regretted.  Her guests’ reactions, however, made her start to wonder.

“It’s not important.  What’s important is the threat to this town,” Killian cut in.  “We need your help.”

Telling them that she and Rumplestiltskin had come back specifically to deal with Jafar and Hyde was on the tip of her tongue, but Belle held her silence.  Instead, she took a deep breath, and faced the unpleasant facts she knew _had_ to be true.  After all, there was only one reason why Rumple would _still_ be so mad about this.

“You told him, didn’t you?”  She swallowed back the urge to snap at them; Belle was sure there had to have been a good reason.  “You told Hyde about me.”

Again, they exchanged that guilty look.  “Aye,” Killian said slowly.  “He accused us of being in league with the Dark One.”

Belle blinked.  _Welcome to_ my _life._ But no, of course, the heroes couldn’t stomach someone saying that about them.  They’d always despised Rumplestiltskin, even when he helped them.  Belle had never wanted to admit that to herself, but looking at even Snow’s face right now told her it was true.  They had been gone for over a year, and the moment they returned, everything was Rumplestiltskin’s fault again.  “So you told me about _me_?  And my _child?_ ”

“We needed something to convince him we weren’t his enemies, so that he’d let us go.”  Snow looked like she felt a little guilty, at least. 

“You wanted him to kidnap me so that you could have _your_ freedom?”

“No!  Of course not.”  Snow took a step forward, her voice pleading.  “You’re reading too much into this.”

“Just like I’m reading into the fact that _none_ of you noticed when I didn’t come through that portal to New York, with you.  Or that _all you wanted to do_ was stop Rumple from waking me up.”  Belle sucked in a shuddering breath, staring at the faces of two people she had thought were her friends.  “Did you even stop to wonder where we might be, or were you just so happy he was gone that you decided I was a price worth paying?”

“What _did_ he do to wake you up?” Killian suddenly asked, looking at her suspiciously.  “This isn’t like you.”

“What, it isn’t like me to ask if my ‘friends’ care about me?  You’re right.  I’ve never asked.”  Belle swallowed hard.  “Maybe I was afraid of what you would say.”

“Of course we care about you.” Snow’s maternal smile was back.  “You’ve always helped us.”

“I know,” Belle whispered.

“Belle, you were in a sleeping curse.  What were we supposed to do?” Killian looked confused.  “But that does bring me back to worrying about how he woke you up.  What kind of dark magic did the Crocodile use?”

“You can leave now.”  The words were out before Belle could even decide to speak them, but once she did, her chin came up proudly. 

“What?  We—”

“No.  Go.  Get out of my library.  I can’t help you.” 

Snow reached for her again, but Belle backed away, shaking her head.  Killian tried to say something, but she ignored him, too, just pointing at the door.  Finally, the pair left, sighing dramatically and glancing at her like she had done something crazy.

And maybe she had.  Maybe the crazy thing had been thinking that any of these people cared about her.

* * *

 

Rumplestiltskin had contemplated not reopening the shop, but in the end, he wasn’t sure what else he would do with himself.  He knew that Belle had the same feelings about the library, excepting the fact that she actually _liked_ her job there.  Then again, Belle would like anywhere she was surrounded by books, which made him make a mental note to expand the library in their home again.  He’d come to the shop out of boredom more than anything else, along with a vague curiosity to see who had broken in during the last year and which of the heroes would be the first to burst in after they realized he was there.

That contest turned out to be a three way tie between Emma, Regina, and Charming, who all came in together.

“Good, you’re back.  It’s time for you to clean up your mess,” Regina snarled instead of offering any sort of greeting. 

Free of the darkness or not, that took Rumplestiltskin aback enough that he snapped back: “ _My_ mess?  And here I was under the impression that the bulk of the trouble was caused by you refusing to listen to my advice to accept your darkness as part of yourself.  Didn’t your evil counterpart cause most of the destruction I spotted upon my return?”

Regina glared; Emma took up the argument for her.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you sent Hyde here.   And just when we get rid of all his allies and lock him up, _Jafar_ shows up to free him, and now the two of them are trying to rule the town.”  Emma crossed her arms.  “Don’t try to tell me you had nothing to do with that.  Your return right on the heels of Jafar’s arrival is just a _little_ suspicious.”

“Ah, but I do have nothing to do with that.”  Rumplestiltskin spread his hands.  “And I’m afraid you have your facts backwards, Miss Swan.  I didn’t send Hyde here.  He already had the Sorcerer’s wand—which, I believe he acquired from your new _friend_ , Zelena.  All I did was not kill him.”

“Yeah, well you would have done us all a big favor if you had!” Regina looked like she definitely had re-integrated her darker half, which Rumplestiltskin had guessed that she would.  After all, there was no way to destroy her darkness, no concoction that would really let her kill the Evil Queen.  Ironically, the best way to destroy the Evil Queen was to embrace her—something the Charmings had long since realized but seemed to elude Regina.

“Oh, is this Ms. Reformed Hero talking?” He cocked his head.  “I’m sorry if I was more concerned with saving my wife than killing your enemies.  Particularly ones whom were told about said wife by _you_.”

His eyes zeroed in on Charming, who had the grace to look uncomfortable.  “No one meant Belle harm, Gold.”

“No, I don’t imagine you did.”  He was honest enough these days not to give them the old lecture about how intent was meaningless.  “But I don’t think you cared to help her, either.”

“That’s not why we’re here!” Regina snapped.  “You want to gloat about how you were right about me, fine.  But do it after we defeat Jafar.  He wants Henry to write something for him, and he’s threatening to hurt people if we don’t turn Henry over to him.”

“And you’re telling me that this is something that the two of you—plus your sister—can’t handle?”  He couldn’t help the way sarcasm dripped off of his tongue at the mention of Zelena; Rumplestiltskin would never forgive her, even if the heroes had embraced her with sickening swiftness.”

“He’s still got genie powers.”  Regina scowled.  “And…and my magic isn’t working so well these days.”

“Re-integration causing you problems, dear?”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” she shot back, and then looked at Emma.  “I told you that we shouldn’t have come here.  He doesn’t give a damn about anyone, even Belle.  It’s all about power for him, now.”

Hearing his old student say that actually took Rumplestiltskin aback; even if Regina didn’t know that he had woken Belle with True Love’s Kiss, how could she say that?  He’d left everything behind to find a way to wake her, had crossed into realms that he would never have _dared_ tread in before.  He had done everything he could to wake Belle, and before that, he’d fought—alone, because none of them cared enough to help!—to save his child’s fate from Hades.  But no.  These fools had chosen to trust Hades instead, and then they’d blamed him when that backfired, too.

Had her words stunned him a little less, Rumplestiltskin might have said something that turned the tide of events before Emma spoke up.  “That’s fine.  I can still hear the dagger.”

The coldness in her voice made his head whip around just in time to see Emma reach into the back of the display case where he’d hidden the Dark One’s dagger away.  He’d thought of putting it in the safe, but he’d ended up tucking it away under a shelf in a box.  When he’d done so, it had never occurred to him that _Emma_ could hear the whispers, too—though it should have.  That little fact had already screwed him over once.   The fact that she, a former Dark One who _knew_ what it was like to be controlled, albeit briefly, would ever pick it up would not have crossed his mind in a thousand years, either.

Yet there Emma was, dagger in hand, her expression grimly determined.  “I don’t want to control you, Gold.  But I’ll do it if I have to.  Jafar’s power is too great, and someone with the power of _all_ the Dark Ones is probably the only one with the juice to take him out.”

“You know, Miss Swan, this is becoming a reoccurring problem for you.  First, you blackmail me—and then you outright work against me when all I’m trying to do is save my wife—and now you’re trying to control me.”  Rumplestiltskin knew his smile was all teeth and no humor, but he didn’t care.  “The answer’s still no.  Not unless you can give me a pressing reason to help.”

“This isn’t pressing enough?”  Emma’s eyes narrowed as she glared at him.

“Not until you turn the dagger over, dear.  By which I mean you should look at the other side.”

Emma did just that, and the shock on her face was truly delightful—right until Belle interrupted their little tête–à–tête by walking in from the back room.  Emma was still busy staring at the scrollwork on the opposite side of the dagger, assimilating the fact that it matched the exact same scrollwork on the side she’d been looking at, so it was Regina who looked at Belle.

“Thank goodness you’re here.  Maybe you can talk sense into him.  Assuming you’re tolerating him these days, that is.”  Regina’s annoyed gesture in his direction was downright rude, and Rumplestiltskin saw Belle take that, Emma’s dumbfounded way of staring at the dagger, and Charming’s visible unease, all in with a glare.

“No.”

“Well, _that’s_ the smartest thing I’ve heard all week.  You have anything in that library of yours that can—”

“I said _no_ ,” Belle snapped.  “How can you ask that of me?  You, who imprisoned me for thirty years, ripped my heart out, and then did _nothing_ to help me when I needed it most?  And now you’re standing here trying to control _my husband_ , and you expect me to meekly help you like I always have?”

“Belle, the future of the town is at stake.  Storybrooke could be destroyed if Jafar isn’t stopped,” Charming tried to say, but that only made Belle turn her formidable anger on him.

“Yes, and that’s the only reason we came back.”  Belle laughed so bitterly that Rumplestiltskin went over to take her hand.  She was shaking with anger, but he could see the tears gathering in her eyes, too.  “And because I thought better of all of you.”

None of the others seemed to know what to say, until Emma finally blurted out: “You’re not the Dark One anymore.”

Rumplestiltskin snorted.  _Took you long enough._ “Go to the head of the class, Miss Swan.”

“He’s _what_?” Regina’s head whipped around; apparently, she’d been too busy glaring at him to notice Emma’s shock.

“True Love’s Kiss will break any curse,” Rumplestiltskin told her for the thousandth time as Belle’s hand tightened in his own.  This time Regina seemed to get the hint.

Emma looked at Belle in confusion.  “But if you didn’t want to be with him…”

“Did my father tell you that?” Belle rolled her eyes.  “Was that before or after he mentioned that he refused to wake me up?”

“He what?” That finally seemed to offend Emma, and Rumplestiltskin was glad that something had.  He was used to being on the heroes’ bad side, used to being the one they blamed for everything—and he often deserved said blame, too.  But Belle, poor Belle wasn’t accustomed to thinking so little of them, and he could see how hard she was taking this.

 _If I was still the Dark One, I’d be sorely tempted to make them all suffer for making her cry.  Clearly,_ someone _told her how Hyde learned of her existence.  I never could bring myself to break her heart like that._ In some ways, he would have rathered Belle blame him for that; it would probably have been easier on her.

“Why would he do that?” Charming asked, looking like he could never contemplate leaving his daughter in such a state.  _Because he couldn’t.  Not this man._

Belle swallowed stoically.  “Why don’t you ask him?”

“You don’t have magic any more, do you?” Regina stepped forward to study him intently.  “That’s why you’re playing it so coy about helping us.”

“A good guess.”  Rumplestiltskin twitched his fingers and summoned the dagger to his hand, a feat he’d never been able to manage before.  It landed there in a swirl of golden smoke, making Emma and Regina both jump. “But hardly the case.”

“Then what the hell is your problem?”

“Ironically enough, Belle and I came back to help with this problem, having had a bit of experience with Jafar’s victims in the Land of Untold Stories.”  He let himself smile fondly at his wife, squeezing her hand again.  “But I do take offense at being blamed for a situation I did not create.”

“You—”

“No, we’re not playing the blame Rumplestiltskin game.  Not with this,” Belle cut Regina off, her voice frigid. 

Regina snorted.  “I’m only calling a spade a spade.”

“Really, dearie?” Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes, placing the dagger on the counter with a _clink_.  “It’s been awhile, but let me see if I can work through the chain of events that brought Mister Hyde here, shall I?  First, your son takes magic out of Storybrooke, creating an abnormality that throws certain friends of yours into another realm—and, oh, here are two of them now.”

Snow and Hook had chosen that moment to walk into the shop, and both looked at him with wide eyes.  _Guilty_ eyes.  _The secret-telling princess strikes again, I see.  I was wondering which one of them it was, but I should have known._ Smiling sarcastically, he continued:

“And one of those friends sees fit to tell your newest enemy that I have a wife.  A pregnant wife.  Now, I’m not sure if this is before or after you lost the Sorcerer’s Wand to him, which he promptly used to create a portal to kidnap Belle.  Then, using the portal with which the happy family is reunited, I travel to said evil Warden, because he still has my wife, and I know none of you will help her.”  Rumplestiltskin smiled thinly.  “And yes, I made a deal with him.  Because for once, _you_ get to reap what you sow.  You brought Hyde into this game.  I merely refused to take him out for you.”

The Charmings all flinched, and even Regina’s voice grew a little quieter:  “It wouldn’t kill you to help from time to time.”

“It almost killed me,” Belle countered, eyes blazing.  She looked utterly beautiful in her fury, but Rumplestiltskin knew that now was not the time to mention that.  Particularly not with an audience, and not with the way Belle was snarling back at their visitors.  “I helped you _every_ time you wanted it, and never asked for anything until I asked for help rescuing Rumplestiltskin.  _Twice._ Both times you refused, because he was the Dark One.  Yet, when Emma was the Dark One, no one blamed her for turning _Hook_ into a second Dark One, one more vicious and vindictive than she ever was.  He tried to take you all to the Underworld, and yet no one blamed him.  But Rumple wants to save our baby, or wake me from a sleeping curse?  Oh, no, he’s _evil_.  We can’t have that.”

“He hasn’t exactly earned our trust lately,” Emma objected.

“Or ever,” Hook muttered.

“I’m glad to know that goes both ways,” Rumplestiltskin drawled before he could stop himself.

Belle twisted to glare at him, but her look wasn’t very harsh.  The one she turned on the heroes, however, was much fierier.  “We came back to deal with Jafar, and we will.  You can do whatever you want, but we’re not helping you.”

“But—if you’re not helping us, how are you helping defeat Jafar?” Snow spoke for the first time, frowning in confusion.

“We’ll do it our way.”  Belle raised her chin proudly.  “And don’t for a minute think we’re doing this for _you_.  We’re doing it for Storybrooke.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled at his wife before he turned back to the heroes.  “It’ll probably be faster than whatever you had in mind, anyway,” he added sweetly.  “Now, why don’t you get out of my shop and let my wife and I deal with this terrible problem?”

“You’re really going to help?” Emma sounded hesitant, like she didn’t know what to do with this situation.  She was a far cry from the strong and challenging woman who had first come to Storybrooke, and for a moment, Rumplestiltskin pitied her.  But only for a moment.

“I’m not the Dark One any more, dear,” he said, knowing exactly what she was thinking.  “There’s no catch.  I will do as I say.  But as Belle said, don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m doing it for any of you lot.”

“Why?” Snow looked pale and chagrined, but Rumplestiltskin didn’t pity her.  Not at all.

“Because that’s what heroes _do_ ,” Belle said serenely.  “Even when those they help never say thank you.”

None of the so-called heroes knew what to say to that, and they didn’t know what to say when Rumplestiltskin’s magic and Belle’s brilliance unraveled Jafar’s spells two days later.  Hyde they dumped back in the asylum, and Jafar was sent—stripped his extra powers—back to Agrabah.  Together, they were a force to be reckoned with, and Rumplestiltskin knew that Jafar had never stood a chance.  If Belle wept quietly for the loss of those she had thought were her friends, she never let them know of it, and _real_ friends stepped forward to fill the gap.  Leroy stuck by her like glue, as did Ruby when she and Dorothy returned from Camelot.  Granny offered babysitting services and Archie officiated while they renewed their vows.   Jefferson had never much liked the heroes, anyway—particularly Regina—so he stood by them, too, and they soon gained more friends than Rumplestiltskin knew what to do with.

Their original intention to leave Storybrooke withered on the vine; Belle gave birth to their daughter a month after Jafar’s defeat, and somehow they just _stayed_.  That didn’t mean they didn’t travel; Belle had always wanted to see the world, and Rumplestiltskin was doubly inclined to show her every world he could.  Eventually, Belle more or less forgave Storybrooke’s leaders, because her heart had always been full of compassion.  Rumplestiltskin nursed his grudges far longer, but in the end, he agreed to let it go.

He had better things to do than worry about the Charming clan, after all.  His wife and daughter were far more important, and far more interesting.


End file.
